Bonds
by maximorph1
Summary: The bond the two of them shared would never be broken; not by time, not by distance, not by death. Their bond was beyond such things. So when he needed her, as she had needed him so long ago, it was inevitable that she would come willingly, nay, eagerly come forth to whatever aide he needed. Even if he didn't realize he was calling at the time. FZ/HoS crossover


Catalyst

… And so time moves again in strange and unexpected paths upon the land of Fuyuki, in a world reigned by familiar rules of magic and science. Upon the land seven spirits, legendary heroes from bygone ages are given false lives for the Heaven's Feel Ritual. Risen to fight, risen to die, they are sent forth by their mortal summoners to win the Holy Grail so that their wishes may be fulfilled.

Seven Servants with Seven masters. Each, one of the Seven Classes:

Saber

Lancer

Archer

Rider

Assassin

Berserker

Seven. No more, no less. Until the last Servant is called forth, the war does not begin. Until the last enemy falls, the Grail will not appear. Only when Grail is full shall the Grail grant the wishes of the victors. Until then, the seven pairs must fight, must bleed, must die until the ritual is finished.

They do not see.

They cannot believe or comprehend that they have all been fooled. The Grail the fight for is not a holy item, it is a demonic device bent on the extinction of man. The Grail is evil. The Grail is corrupt, and worst of all, the Grail is sentient.

It has the power to choose who will be a Master, who will have the right to summon a Servant. Thus, it will choose the cruelest of paths available to it. It will choose the ones destined to greatness and gift them with tragedy. It will take the weak and the mad and offer them savoring fruits of hope and pleasure before ripping it from their lips. It will take the innocent and then drown them in corruption.

All because the Grail is evil, and they are all blind to that.

Almost all Servants have been summoned for this war, for this Heaven's Feel. And tonight, the last Master will summon his Servant. He is a sick and twisted excuse of a human, one who delighted in murder. To be more specific, the murder of children and young women, if only because they are easy targets and made such delightful screams and expressions as he worked on them.

UryuuRyuunosuke was this monster's name, and death was his game, his hobby, his entertainment, and especially his favorite art.

But today was special. Today he would summon a demon. For all that his parents were dull and uninteresting to his altered gaze, they had still for some reason kept a tantalizing book in the old shed behind his house.

Following the instructions written inside the decaying novel, Ryuunosuke had killed and killed and killed, arranging bodies and blood as instructed, not understanding exactly what he was doing… but at least it had been entertaining and given him something new to work on.

… All of this for an off chance of actually getting to see a demon.

Everything was gathered, everything was prepared save drawing the summoning circle...but it wasn't enough for Uryuu. He figured the summoned guy might want some sort of snack when he appeared. After all, who would want to get pulled away from whatever they were doing just to have a chat with some stranger? Nah, Uryuu needed to give the demon a reason to appear.

And the serial killer had found just the thing. Something so rare, Uryuu had never imagined meeting a real one in Japan. A natural redhead, not dyed, but an actual redhead in Japan. The Japanese killer had never seen one before in his life, plenty of people had dyed their hair, himself included, but a natural one...

This was perfect, the kid's hair the color of blood, the perfect meal for his demon.

And so UryuuRyuunosuke walked towards his target, not realizing he was missing the most important thing for the summoning, not realizing that the mark that should have been on his hand was not there. Rather, it appeared upon the hand of the boy.

A boy who lacked the sheath belonging to the King of Knights. A boy who had no connection to a certain foolish King that had already been summoned. So, lacking a catalyst strongly tied to him, it fell upon the Grail to summon a suitable Servant for him, the boy whose very origins are shrouded in mystery.

There are infinite ways this could turn out. His temperament might bring forth saints or monstrosities, innocent dreamers or cynical fallen heroes. Perhaps all, perhaps none, perhaps both or something else entirely, for the child has infinite possibilities before him...provided he lives long enough.

Let the Fourth Grail War begin anew in strange and interesting ways.

xxxxxxxxx

**Bonds**

He had told her so long ago that the bonds between them were beyond definition… that they were in many ways closer than he would be to his lover. The two held no secrets kept from one another, no detail in their lives that was kept hidden. It would have been impossible if they had desired it, but they hadn't and they had been stronger for it.

Their trust in one another had given them the strength to face the greatest of obstacles, the mightiest of challenges and triumph time and time again until they were legends, gods amongst mere mortals as it were. They would be remembered, they would never be forgotten by the masses. Together, they stood as pinnacles of what humanity could accomplish if they were determined.

Their bond had been beyond anything she could have imagined; so strong that not even his death could make her feel sorrow. She had nodded her head and thought it was completely right that he was free to go to his long lost lover. Even when he had died, she had felt the bond, an intangible, but unbreakable thing that would last her the rest of her life; and what a life it was.

Before her end, she was a legend across the world. Before her end armies fled, before her, rulers treated her as an equal, and her name was synonymous with chaos and destruction unlimited to her foes. She was an insurmountable foe that no one could face head on, from the side, or from behind for that matter. All who had tried ended with failure and earned their appropriate fates.

She was the breaker of conformity, the bane of tradition and conservatives. She would not bind herself to antiquated ways, save for those that she treasured most. She was mighty, she was indomitable, she was neigh invincible...until she died.

In the end, time had been the one to deal the fatal blow. Relentless and unyielding, she had been assaulted by time itself until not even she could ward it off any longer and fell into the waiting embrace of death. Armies had fallen before her, champions broken across her knee, but not even she could stop her weakened body finally giving in for the need to rest.

She had died alone, but content beside 'his' grave, a gentle smile touching her lips as she had quietly fallen asleep for the last time. With great respect, and honor unlike anything ever seen before, they had buried her beside 'his' grave, knowing that was what she would have wanted.

Even as time continued to move forward and the facts became legend and the legends became myth, all the people of the world knew that the bond the two of them shared would never be broken; not by time, not by distance, not by death. Their bond was beyond such things. So when he needed her, as she had needed him so long ago, it was inevitable that she would come willingly, nay, eagerly come forth to whatever aide he needed.

Even if he didn't realize he was calling at the time.

In a blinding flash of light, she stepped forth from her summoning circle, pushing past the knowledge that had just been inserted into her head. That was inconsequential for the moment. She would complete the ritual he had done so many times before. It was tradition, it was almost a requirement after receiving this question so many times before.

"Servant Caster," She spoke, bowing her head as she knelt to one knee. "Upon your summoning I have come forth. I ask of you are you my Master?" With that, she raised her head not knowing what she was expecting her Master to be.

She certainly wasn't expecting the most soulless eyes she had ever seen before on a living person.

She took in the rest of his state and subsequently felt the blood flowing out of her face and into her gut where it turned to ice. She knew him, of course she knew him. How could she not? She had seen him in this form so many times before in her dreams. She remembered what he looked like in the fire, the eyes of a lost soul without memories of who he was or where he came from. Now she gazed upon those same lost eyes for the first time through her own optics, rather than in her nightmares.

She needed answers, and she needed them now.

With a stunning speed of thought that belonged to the prodigy she was, she grasped the knowledge provided to her by the Grail and felt the ice in her stomach spread to the rest of her body.

The Fourth Grail War.

How...Why...Who would...? Her thoughts tried to determine why this had happened and could only come to two conclusions. First, the root of all creation still thought the two of them were too much fun to leave alone. Second, it was all too likely that she might be a part of the reason why she had been able to summon him in her youth.

It was all too possible that the bond between them as Master and Servant had gone both ways. He had no memory from before the fire. He had no knowledge of who he had been or what he had been doing. Nor had he possessed much, if any knowledge of the previous Grail Wars.

Had she always been his Caster just as he had been Her Servant? It was all too possible. There were so many gaps in the knowledge she possessed about this war. Had she appeared in the Fifth War, she would have immediately known something was wrong. Yet, this was the Fourth. This was the war that made him what he was, yet he never delved too deeply into what it was that created him. She was going in blind.

However the situation was not hopeless. She had not earned her place upon within the Throne of Heroes by relying on foreknowledge. Time and time again she had cluelessly been thrust into terrible situations, and each time emerged victorious.

If she had to go in blind, then so be it.

All this she thought of and took in within in mere seconds from her summoning. All this was ground to a halt as she smelled something she was all too familiar with. A scent found in battle, a scent found in horror, a scent that should never dare to threaten the boy so long as she lived. With her nostrils flaring slightly, she stood and took in the area, her eyes like steel as she digested what was in front of her.

Four corpses. Two adults of middle age, one of each gender. One woman of greater age with hair of white and gray. One girl somewhere around her Master's age. All four of them had a great deal of resemblance to the boy.

All dead. All mutilated. Their bodies toyed with in such a demented macabre fashion that words could not describe the sheer disgust and horror that Caster felt. Like breakable puppets reattached in random ways only a child would have conceived.

Their blood had been drained and spread across the room in intricate and foul manners, forming various circles that from what she could tell absorbed ambient mana from the environment while being fueled with the very essence of the deceased. All this magic, all this power had been focused right into the circle beneath her.

Besides her Master, there was only one living human in the room. A gangly looking man with hair that looked somewhat orange but had an artificial tint to it. This was secondary however to two facts in her mind.

One: He was covered with fresh blood, especially on his feet and hands.

Two: He was holding a grimoire of some kind.

This is the one, her mind told her with cold logic. This was the one that had done this monstrosity and made her Master watch. She saw that the killer's mouth was moving, that this man was speaking. However the blood that had frozen in her stomach had gone straight to boiling hot inside her and was rushing into her very vision until she saw nothing but red.

She didn't hear what he was saying, didn't care to hear what he was trying to say. She knew his kind, she hated his kind, but most of all she hated him personally. She raised her wand and spoke the one and only word she would waste on him.

"Explosion."

Not even seeing him burst into a rain of blood and flesh chunks cooled her rage in the slightest. With deliberate control on her actions, she picked up the boy with her free hand and cradled him as best she could to her chest while she aimed at the abominable magic absorbing matrix before her.

Only when she was sure that no shrapnel would hit him did she unleash her wrath upon the offending symbols. Explosion after explosion rocked the room, her summoning circle the last of her targets.

She burned her rage into this house, erasing all signs of what was done to this place. All this death, all this needless pain and horror, it offended her like few things she had ever witnessed in her life. Only the foulest of spell casters of her land would have ever done something so crude, so wasteful, and so horribly foul to anyone.

This was an abomination upon her senses, upon her morals, upon her very essence. To think that this was the method behind her summoning. Oh, her hate was burning deeply right now. The smallest consolation she found was that it had backfired upon the damned monster, summoning a mighty hero to decimate the killer in retribution of her Master.

Only with the complete destruction of all magic did her eyes wander to the four things she had carefully avoided looking at until her rage had subsided. She needed a clear head once more to consider her next move as she gazed upon the bodies of the fallen.

On one hand, they were the boy's family, his one link to his past that he possessed. Surely it would be right to bury them… and yet, their bodies had been desecrated to such an extent that it was probably better to remove them.

To bury or to burn, that was the question. She looked down into the eyes of her Master and flinched again at the sight of those soulless eyes before gently closing to hide that sight from her own. It appeared that such a decision was beyond her Master's consideration at this time.

Time, however, was of the essence. If she lingered too long, others would come to investigate. If she stayed she might be found, and that was something that she could not afford. They would take her Master away, place her under questioning never understanding the danger that was being placed upon everyone. She had to make a choice, and she had to make it now.

So she destroyed the bodies, eliminated all evidence of what had been done to them. The ungodly work forced upon them would be hidden from the world, allowing the departed to have some form of dignity after death. Better to be scattered to the winds than to lay upon the earth with everything laid bare.

With that final series of explosions, she could hear the building groan in agony as the weakened supports prepared to give way. With one last bit of magic, she opened a portal before her and stepped across, closing the portal behind her. From her new vantage point a great distance away, she watched with grim satisfaction as the house collapsed within itself, as though the building was also doing its best effort to hide what went on inside.

Good.

Now she had to focus with the next problem on her list. Her Master was not sending her any prana, not surprising given his age, nor the mental state he had fallen into. Those soulless eyes were almost too terrifying for her to gaze into. To see the eyes that had once been so strong look so dead was heartrending.

Never before had she lamented that erasing memories was not one of her powers, that such a power belonged to another. Thus, she would have to deal with the damage the best she could within her limits.

And pray, pray that he might find a part of himself within the dreams to come.

But that wasn't going to fix the issue at hand. For the moment, she had to rely on her reserves until she found a way to maintain her prana. If she ran out, then regardless of what happened, she would vanish.

Still, considering she had a phenomenal A plus ranked mana supply, she would be able to take care of herself for a while. So long as she did not use any of her major magics at least. Mentally, she started making a to-do list for herself.

Number one, find a prana source as her Master is unable serve as one.

Number two, figure out a way to help her Master.

Number three, Prepare for Grail War.

Number four, win Grail war.

Actually, the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that number four should be stricken from the list. For some reason, she seemed to not like the idea of an all-powerful wish granting device. Why? ...Damned if she knew. She couldn't explain why other than the old saying about something too good to be true, but it was there. Ah well, it wasn't like she had a wish herself or anything.

...Except maybe... looking down she stared into those dead eyes, and forced herself to not flinch. Her powers did not involve healing of any sort. For all her power, she was helpless to treat him. Perhaps, just maybe the Grail will be able to administer treatment.

That is, if he doesn't heal himself. For there was one thing that she could provide him, one tiny, little thing that come from possessing a Servant. Perhaps, within this one byproduct of their bond, perhaps there might be a way for her to help him forge himself anew.

New plan; three easy steps. Find Prana source. Help her tiny Master. Deal with Grail War.

Short, sweet, simple, and probably doomed to all hell considering how badly she expected any Grail War to go. Mentally sighing the last bit of cynicism she would allow herself for the moment, she went to work.

"Sleep well Shirou," She whispered to him as she cast a small spell upon him, "Dream of better times." With quiet reverence, she turned away from the ruins and began to walk, not fully sure where she was going, but letting her feet take her where they would.

Into a quiet neighborhood that seemed so familiar, yet so alien at the same time, she found herself walking with great surety, following a path that seemed honed into her mind.

It was almost no surprise at all to find herself ending up where she was. It was a ruin, but it was an all too familiar place for her at the same time, though she had never gazed upon this place before with her own eyes. It might not be enough for the war, but it would do for the moment.

Perhaps, perhaps he would sleep better in a place that had such a connection to him. As she quietly made her way into a familiar side building, she pondered to herself just what she would do here in this world, and how to keep him out of the fire.

"Honestly," Caster lamented lightly, "Why does the Root do this to me? What did I possibly do to the origin of all creation to turn its attention upon me and decide that I'd make an interesting toy?"

"Hmm, probably something to do with your temper." A new voice arose from within the room, one filled with both age and vigor in equal measure.

"Probably." Caster forced herself to admit. "Brimir knows how much of a hellion I was back then."

"...What do you mean back then?" The voice quipped.

"...Shut up." She huffed before she gazed upon the dojo. So this was where 'She' stayed during the day. Even with the passage of time, Caster could clearly picture just where that woman had remained kneeling as she awaited her Master's return. Though, Caster would hold off on placing herself on that spot as the floor looked rather weakened over there.

Clearly this place had not had any human habitation for some time and nature itself was reasserting itself into the building. Yet, for all the ruin within this place, there was also a sense of serenity within it. A sort of cozy, laid back sensation within. For all that this place looked as though mankind had long abandoned, it also had a feel about it, one of peace and shelter against any storm. Yes, Caster could tell why that woman was always found here.

It would do, it would do very well as a place of rest and contemplation for her and her young ward. What was the word he would use for a place like this? Zen? Maybe Karma? It was probably one of those two.

Yet, at the same time, it would never be a place to fight from, it would never be a fortress or a trap to break or banish foes. Nor could she alter it into such. It was beyond her power.

Unlike other Casters, she lacked the ability to create her own territory, her own workshop as it were. Ever since she had become an independent adult, she had never stayed in one place for too long, never settling down and do things most magic users did with their time.

Her studies came about usually from either her own attempts out in the field or through the single small book that was strapped to her hip at the moment. Territory Creation was beyond her, and not even the Grail could change that.

Ah well, there was always the oldest trick in the book, a trick that worked for mankind since the dawn of time: make it appear as though no one is residing there.

Simple, effective, and as long as that idea was followed, finding her would be like looking for a tree in a forest. It was true that every Servant had some form of detecting one another, but only the Caster class and the Archer class had any true ability to find an enemy from a reasonable distance. All the other Servants had to get close enough to detect a hidden enemy.

For the moment, she was about as safe as she was going to get, and that suited her just fine.

'_Now then,_' Caster thought, '_what am I going to need first?_' In a short time, several stores around the city would suddenly be missing packets of food and drink, while one particular store would end up missing a set of knitting needles and several balls of yarn of all things.

Caster was well on her way to making herself comfortable in this world.

Meanwhile, on the south eastern border of the city stood a white church of European design with a small cemetery beside it. Inside this church was where two priests resided. One of them, the elder, was busy answering a phone call in his office while the younger one who was probably in his twenties or thirties was sitting across from the man awaiting the news.

"I understand." The old priest, Kotomine Risei nodded, "You have my thanks." With that, he hung up the phone and turned to his son. No, not the religious connotation, his actual son. "It would appear that one of our flock's homes was destroyed recently. No signs of the family have been located at this time."

Closing his eyes, the priest remembered the family, if only because they were one of the few that actually practiced the western religion and therefore came to the church every Sunday. Nothing remarkable about them. They were mundane to the point where it was obvious that none of them were magi.

"Do you think one of them summoned Caster?" The son, Kotomine Kirei asked. It seemed like too much of a coincidence for the summoning of the last Servant for the war and this incident to go unconnected. Although, there was always a chance that it had been nothing more than a short skirmish between Servants. It would take a bit of time for Assassin to report on the situation.

"Doubtful," the old man shook his head, "None of them possessed Command Seals" Just last Sunday he had shaken hands with the adults after mass. Even gotten a little wave from the boy as he went by. Nice family, but for the life of him, the old priest could not actually remember their names.

"Then it must have been the rogue magus." Kirei surmised. The city had been hard hit lately with a string of serial killings that all possessed various crude magical circles and markings designed to draw power. In this case, to provide extra prana for the summoning ritual, probably to give a boost to the Servant's stats.

Most people would feel disgust at this. Most people would feel anger at the callous sacrifice of human lives for tiny gains in power. For Kotomine Kirei, however, the man felt nothing, just as he felt when his wife committed suicide in front of his eyes. The hollow man merely cataloged the fact that the master was likely to continue such actions for the duration of the war in order to continually strengthen his Servant.

"Master." A soft voice whispered in the room, breaking the interlude between the two men. Beside the two men appeared a woman in form fitting silks and a white skull mask upon her face. "One of us has reached the area. The area is saturated with residual spirit magic. It is a certainty that a Servant was summoned there."

"Understood." Risei nodded. "I'll inform Tokiomi of this development." With that, the priest stood up and headed for the hidden stairway down the hallway. Kotomine said nothing as he watched his father leave before turning back to Assassin.

Though his Servant was loyal, it had a tendency to hold back information until there was no one to overhear anything. Assassin never raised up its voice whenever Kirei passed on the information to Tokiomi, but it would almost always hold back some information.

Perhaps it was old habits that made Assassin do this, or perhaps the Servant was testing Kirei. It is impossible to determine as Assassin is an anomaly amongst Servants. Normally a Master can only summon a single Servant to fight for them. Kirei, however, had a Servant that manifested in thirty two bodies due to a strange quirk that it had in life.

Apparently, this Epic Spirit had become the leader of the organization of assassins by breaking its mind into pieces and lived out the various personas when infiltrating and assassinating.

In other words, Assassin forced itself to break and develop multiple personalities. From there, Assassin then modified its body to the point where it could shapeshift at a whim, matching each shattered fragment of a mind with a corresponding body. There was a form for the innocence lost, a form for the feminine side, a form for brutality, a form for pride, and even a form for self loathing.

Who was the original, what was the original form? No one could say, not one of the fragments knew. All they knew was that they had chosen to do this to themselves. It was through such an inside change that allowed this broken soul to rise to the top of the hierarchy of killers and gain the title Hassan I Sabbath, the old man on the mountain.

Thirty two personalities, thirty two bodies consisted of the being that was Assassin. Each of them was a master of killing, yet each of them was weaker than a whole by the destruction of their psyche. Yet, there was a strength in this forceful separation of themselves.

Quantity was a quality in itself after all.

In addition, what one aspect saw, the others saw as well. Information instantly traveling between the lot of them with deadly ramifications. It would be easy, relatively, for one aspect to die against a Servant. Yet, the death of one would not bring about the death of the others. A single aspect could be sacrificed so that the whole might be able to learn a weakness of their enemy.

Gazing upon his silent Servant, Kirei awaited the key piece of information that had been held back from his father. For a time, there was a complete absence between the two of them, probably Assassin waiting until Kotomine Risei was far enough to be out of hearing before it spoke. "We have located Rider."

"Oh?" Kirei asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where are they now?"

"Where Caster was summoned." The shadow replied as though the answer was obvious.

Near the center of Fuyuki, a hooded figured gazed upon the strange pair that stood before ruin. More specifically, the destruction of a house that had inexplicably collapsed not too long ago.

One was a young man, probably in his mid-teenage years with slightly elongated black hair that fell to his neck. His outfit was well tailored, but clearly foreign influenced, set of gray clothing with a striped tie around his neck. Actually, looking at him, many would have thought it might be some sort of school uniform or something from the design.

He was a thin fellow, a bit on the short side, but it could have been due to the fact that he still had growing to do. His behavior noticeably kept switching between an attempt at being haughty and putting on airs to nervousness all too suddenly then going back again.

To be frank, most people would have thought of him as coming from a well off European family, but clearly out of his depth at the moment in the middle of Japan.

Beside him, was what could only be called a near polar opposite of the boy. Standing well over six feet tall, if not breaking seven, built like an ox with bulging muscles that only the fittest of men could ever hope to possess.

The man's hair was a burning red, almost as though his head was on fire. It didn't help that he possessed a bright red, close chopped beard lining his chin and thick red eyebrows at the same time. Then there was that red fur cloak that wrapped around the man's shoulders and fell to the man's sandal clad feet which possessed images of flames near the bottom.

The man burned brightly upon the sense of sight. Yet, there seemed to be more to the giant than just his imposing looks. There seemed to be something more, a sort of aura about him that placed the individual on a higher plane of existence than an ordinary. This was a man who was one who would rule, if he wasn't ruling already.

While the boy could easily vanish into a crowd with ease, the giant would always stick out, and not just because of the height or the semi-insane amounts of red on his person, or even the strange aura about him. See, the large man was wearing armor, leather armor to be sure, but armor none the less that covered his massive chest and covered his long skirt (which had gold embroidered near the bottom for some reason), as well as a large sword strapped to his side.

In a modern day Japan, this was just not normal.

Though the armor might be passed off as cosplay or some such, there were strict laws put in place about possessing swords in public. Yet, the guy seemed to not care a wit about laws or consequences. Especially at this moment as he stared at the ruins before him.

From the hooded figure's position, he could not hear what the two were saying, but there seemed to be a great deal of agitation between the boy and the giant. It looked as though the smaller of two was trying to reprimand the taller one.

The interaction ended with a finger-flick from the redhead to the boy that had considerable strength bending the motion sending the boy to fall on his bottom. With that, the giant walked towards the building, and with a monumental display of strength, lifted up what had been part of the roof and flipped it over.

The big one was silent for a bit, shifting his gaze between the roof and what had lain under it before standing up and leaving, a strange expression on his face. With ease, the giant grasped the boy and began hauling him off away from the site, ignoring the protests emanating from the boy in the process.

Left alone, the hooded figure made his own approach towards the site and gazed upon where the giant of a man had gone to work on the roof. He had only to glance upon them before he nearly collapsed from the insects within his body whirling at the intense amount of magic coming from that place. Several insects burst out of his skin like popped blisters before diving into the building and feasting upon what was inside.

Someone had died here, possibly several. While distressing by itself, the sheer amount of magic involved in the area indicated a powerful magus. Far more power than any modern magus had a right to in this day and age, with the possible exception of the Wizard Marshal and the Director of the Clocktower.

In addition to these facts, the hooded figure knew that the only Servant that had not been summoned already was that of the Caster class. Such information was due to certain insider knowledge that the man had been privy to prior to leaving that damned old man he had the displeasure of calling grandfather. Undoubtedly, this was the work of the Servant of the Arcane here.

The question was why would Caster do such a thing? The heroes summoned to fight in this war were supposed to be just that, heroes. Dead innocents were not normally considered acts of heroes. Usually, this would be more along the lines of Berserker, but the hooded figure would have definitely known if his own Servant had gone rogue.

But in the end, the hooded figure did not care, all he had his eyes on was one man; one man who had sold a daughter to a monster.

Coughing thrice, which caused dark fluid to burst from his mouth, he walked away. As of now, the Grail war was officially beginning. That meant he no longer had to wait. He could begin his attack at any time.

Soon, that man would pay for what he did to his daughter. He would pay, and suffer greatly for what Sakura had to go through. Beside the hooded man, the air rippled for a moment as something dark and malignant responded to that hatred.

Further off from the site, a young woman gazed upon the ruins with her binoculars. The 'why this happened' meant little to her. Rather, this strange occurrence was useful in that two opposing Masters had personally arrived to inspect the site.

And so the first night ended. So far, not one Master realized the consequence of the change fate had dealt this day. A pair made of a gold-clad king and a jewel master deemed it inconsequential that the 'weakest' of Servants had finally appeared.

Though, the magus deemed that tomorrow night would be the perfect time to implement his plan with his ally. Said ally and his broken Servant merely continued to collect as much information as possible, their thoughts their own.

A king of conquest was unusually silent as he contemplated his thoughts. That, and occasionally giving a well deserved finger flick to the little sprout that needed to do some growing.

A married couple arrived in the middle of the night and checked into the most expense hotel in the city, claiming several floors for their own use, never occurring to them that maybe discretion might be a valuable resource in the middle of war. A woman who saw herself as a tool silently recorded everything for another when he arrived tomorrow.

And a witch spent the night trying her very best to heal her broken master, with no success.

For all these concerned parties, it appeared as though that each and every one of their opponents was following the sparse rules of the Grail War. Not one sighting or rumor of strange individuals passed through the lips of ordinary men, nor were there any signs of conflict in the middle of the daytime. Yet, such news was actually relevant to certain parties.

For two priests and a magus, the fact that no other houses had been turned into carnal houses filled with magic ritual signs and the like informed them that Caster's Master had accomplished his summoning, ceasing the need for lives to be taken.

It is a black mark about their society they lived in that the only concerns the three of them had about such deaths was that the technique was sloppy and crude, possibly risking the secrecy of magic. Not one thought was passed for the fact that dozens of lives were brutally taken. Such facts were ignored in favor that no more annoyances and incidents would infest the city.

But time did pass, and day turned to night all too soon and the Grail War resumes, with all its plots and betrayals. Treason, murder, backstabbing, all these things were and are things the Servant Assassin possess in both the ancient times and now in the modern world. Here in the darkness, is the realm that Assassin was raised in, molded in, and perfected into the greatest of knives in the night.

Tonight, a master would die, but not one most would have figured. Though several of the other masters had been located, each of them easy targets to be cut down, Kotomine Kirei had chosen to eliminate the easiest of all targets tonight: Tohsaka Tokiomi. Of all the enemies to take out first, Kirei had chosen to have the man whose defenses were all known to the Servant of the Shadows. It was all but child's play to progress through the various defenses without setting them off.

Were it a sane creature, it might have laughed at the sheer irony of it all; but it was not, so it did not laugh. Spending near half a month within this very mansion acting as silent guards, each aspect of the Assassin noted every weak and blind spot in the area. The so called loyal dog was now attempting to bite the hand that fed it.

Through the shadows Assassin roamed, heading closer and closer to the target, unafraid of begin caught. Kotomine had told Assassin to not fear Archer, but such a warning was wasted on the fragment of a whole. Death meant nothing to the broken. Death was merely an inconvenience until Assassin obtained its wish, and become whole one more.

Halfway through the garden, the blind spot of the bounded field a spirit could just pass through vanished. From here on, the barrier has to be destroyed by physical means and destroy all keystones along the way. Stealth and the Presence Concealment ability all Assassin class Servants possessed were no longer viable.

Leaning over the shadow of the vegetation, Assassin returned from spirit form to physical form, exposing its bony mask and tall, lean figure. It can feel several forms of observation from afar all tracking it. Each of these presences were both different in feel and appearance to the magic belonging to the Tohsaka's. It was easy to surmise that these things were various watchers belonging to other enemy Masters who would be observing one of the three founding families of the Grail War.

It mattered naught to Assassin. So long as the objective was achieved, a thousand eyes could gaze upon Assassin. It wasn't like watching Assassin work would save them from the shadows' knives. Besides, none of the competition would intervene in this operation. The other Masters would prefer to stand back and let one of the competitors be slain rather than warn him of the imminent death.

Moving without creating a single sound, the Assassin extended its hand towards the first keystone that bound the magic barrier to the mortal realm.

!

The next instant, the hand was pierced through from a spear that had been sent flying from above at a speed that rivaled lightning. It is a testament to Assassin's training that it made no sound as the spear all but obliterated the hand. The pain was immense, but Assassin pushed it aside to gaze up at the origin of the spear's flight.

Atop the roof of the Tohsaka residence, a golden shadow stands magnificently, a divine brilliance seemed to equal in heaven or on earth. Silently, Assassin stared at the sight before it. Golden armor wasn't exactly considered the best form of defense it had ever heard of.

"You worm crawling on the ground, whose pardon do you seek?" The golden man asks indifferently to the Assassin hidden on the ground, looking down at him with a pair of disdainful, burning crimson eyes.

"You dare look upon me? Arrogance. Worms can only look at the ground when they die."

Around the golden figure, golden distortions appeared in the air, growing in number by the second until the night seemed closer to noon from all of the glows. Suddenly sliding out of strange golden ripples were weapons. Swords, spears, maces, halberds, and so many more appeared from these things. Each of them a unique weapon that spoke of deadliness that equaled if not surpassed their beauty.

And all of them were aimed at Assassin.

The sheer amount of death hanging before Assassin was all the Servant needed to confirm the ultimate truth. Assassin could not win, at least tonight. So be it, a fragment will fall.

To the observers outside the mansion, what happened next appeared to be the first casualty of the war. By the skill and prowess of Archer, Assassin appeared to have been slain with barely any visible effort, yet a massive display of destruction. To those watching, the demonstration chilled the bones of all who watched, declaring the strength of Archer and filling the enemy with dread while convincing everything that Assassin was dead.

Or so it should have

In the end however, all of the Tohsaka and Kotomine plans hinged upon three things:

To convince the enemy Masters that Assassin was dead.

To proclaim that Archer was the strongest Servant in the war.

And finally, erase any ideas that there was an alliance between the Masters of Assassin and Archer.

Ultimately this gambit failed, and it failed for many reasons. It could be mentioned the paranoia of a certain Master would not believe such a sight before him, that a crimson king had a far greater interest in other topics than the likes of Assassin falling, or even the fact that one nearly crippled man's hatred would not be dissuaded from such showings.

Above all, however, Tohsaka's plan failed because of one assumption he made. He assumed that every Master and Servant pair in the war would be watching his plot unfold. Five pairs should have watched and become deceived by the simple trick.

Only four pairs witnessed tonight's actions, one pair had not.

"What was that?" Caster asked aloud, instinctively turning her head in the direction of a major power build up. It felt to her senses like a second sun had suddenly decided to appear somewhere south and east of her location. The power had a strange sensation about it, one of both graceful majesty and overwhelming brutality in equal measure.

There was no doubt in her mind, however, that this power was the work of another Servant. But who, who would be able to sling such power around?

At once, she began chanting her magic and focused her thoughts upon the general location of the power. Even as the last syllables left her mouth, she felt the great power vanish. Unable to pinpoint the exact location, she had to alter the last few stanzas of the spell so that it gave her a bird's eye view overlooking the rough area.

This area was definitely belonging to the upper class population of this region, and while she could not tell if this was a standard rule of thumb, but if she recalled correctly, magi of this land preferred to live in such places.

Still, even as she attempted to find out what had happened, she could not locate where the power had come from. True, she easily detected the residences of two magi, but the source of the power was not there, or well hidden. While she would make a note of the two, she ultimately had to call it quits and concentrate on other matters.

Thus, the Servant of the Arcane had no idea about anything that Tohsaka Tokiomi had prepared. Honestly, it was almost a trend with Tohsakas, any preemptive plan they make tends to backfire at the last possible moment. Of course, the full ramifications of the consequences of tonight would not be felt for a while yet.

Thus the night ended, to bring about the second day of the Grail War, and with the change of time came another change to Fuyuki. Upon a plane, landing in Fuyuki, two figures calmly sat in their seats as they gazed upon the city where they would fight.

Was it luck or perhaps Fate? In the end, it probably didn't matter for her in the slightest, but Caster just knew in an instant when 'she' arrived in Fuyuki. It had started softly in the back of her mind, a strange fuzzy feeling of familiarity and nostalgia that had nothing to do with the current location she was in or her tiny master in her arms.

It was something else, something grander than almost anything the woman had felt in her long life.

Moment by moment it had grown stronger until she could focus upon the sensation to realize that a Servant had arrived in the city. But not just any Servant, it was one she knew... if only through intermediaries. Still, there was no mistaking that presence, at long last, the King of Knights had come to battle for the Grail War.

Outwardly, Caster was calm and poised, her body making no move to indicate her feelings, merely continuing to stroke her Master's head as he lay upon her lap as she hummed an old lullaby. Outwardly, she was cool and collected as her mother had always displayed in all but the rarest of moments.

Inwardly, on the other hand, Caster was stressing out, wondering how she should meet Saber. Should she just appear on a rooftop somewhere and merely give a small bow of respect before vanishing? How about merely walking nearby, catch the king's eye and give a curt nod before walking away? No no no, that was too disrespectful. Then again, a full genuflection wouldn't be taken too well as technically they were currently enemies.

The woman who had broken a dozen armies with a glare and a spell or two was indeed thinking a bit along the lines of a fangirl at the moment, but why shouldn't she?

Here, today, Caster would be able to meet one of the most magnificent individuals she had ever heard of. The King of Knights may not have been famous in her own land, but Caster had known. She had, in fact, known more facts about the king than almost anyone else in the world at the time. The witch had known about the king's true gender, her ideals, her dreams, and just about everything else that could sum up an individual.

Why would she not want to meet one of her idols, even if Saber was not as high on her list of individuals to idolize as say, her mother, and more importantly, 'Him'. Still, Saber was up there on people to idolize.

Despite her inner turmoil, Caster remained outwardly calm even as she watched Saber leave the airport with a woman with red eyes and white hair, who looked rather familiar for some reason. Yet, her attempts to recall why the woman was so familiar resulted in merely grasping at air. Odd...

Well, for the moment, Caster merely settled to watching Saber and the other woman head westward through the city in one of those horseless carriages. Were it not for the fact that she was busy trying to come up with a decent scenario to ease the lingering butterflies, she might have admitted watching the two just drive to be rather boring.

Things, however, took an interesting turn when the carriage pulled off to the side of the road unloading the two passengers in the midst of the city. With a small bit of fascination, Caster watched as the two started to take a tour of the market district. The sheer excitement the white haired woman possessed as she practically skipped was contagious to watch.

_'Chance!' Caster_ immediately thought as she watched the two wander from store to store. This was the perfect opportunity to arrive. Calmly placing Shirou on the floor, confident that he would be safe for a few minutes, she began to chant. Before her, a portal leading to the market

She took a step out of the portal, intent to find a nearby place to serve tea and announce her presence to Saber. Saber would of course come to investigate, only to find her supposed enemy sipping tea without the slightest hint of apprehension. From there Caster would offer for them to have tea, but knowing Saber's personality, she would refuse, but at least she would not attack at the moment. From there, Caster could-

With that thought, Caster planted her second foot out of the portal, leaving her body completely on the other side...which is when it happened.

"Gurk!" She suddenly choked out, her hands immediately going towards her chest as her face lost all color, turning a sickly white shade. Her entire thought process was ground to a halt as she suddenly felt like her entire body was being ripped apart from every angle possible. Around the edges of her body, countless golden motes began to float away from her.

Without a moment's hesitation, she leaped backwards into the portal, returning to her current residence. As soon as she was back with Shirou, she collapsed onto her knees and began coughing violently. As the rift in space closed up, Caster slowly returned to normal.

"That's not good," the vigor filled elderly voice pipped in.

"No kidding." Caster gasped out. "My anchor is that tenuous to this world?"

"Apparently."

Muttering a few choice curses, Caster shook her head. "Well so much for all those plans I made then." Instead of hopping around town as a distraction, she now knew she could not leave her Master behind for any amount of time without her body dissolving into prana.

Brimir's balls, that had hurt just experiencing those few seconds of her body attempting to break down on her. It was worse than the time she had half her body set on fire, and Caster was certain nothing could have matched that kind of pain.

"So, what's the plan?" The elderly voice asked. For a time, there was only silence as Caster's gaze became unfocused as she began analyzing everything with her brilliant mind.

"...I'll have to keep him by my side." Caster responded eventually. There was no other way around it. She'd vanish shortly without her soul anchored to the realm of the living. Not exactly the most pleasant or glorious way to die.

Muttering a few more choice curses, Caster returned to her usual spot and quietly placed the small boy's head on her lap once more. With her original plans destroyed completely, she chanted the spell for viewing Saber. Once more, the Servant of the Arcane was treated with the sight of Saber and the white haired woman frolicked, for lack of a better term, through the market.

However, there was a subtle change in Saber's demon, a quiet wariness in her. Was it possible? Had Saber detected Caster for a moment? It was possible, it wasn't like Caster had the ability to keep her presence lowered when her body was trying to rip itself apart. Still, it must have only been for a moment that Saber detected another Servant as she wasn't interrupting the white haired woman's good time.

As the day ended and night began to fall, the pair headed towards the beach where the woman, Irisviel was her name apparently, took off her shoes and began kicking her feet about as she enjoyed the sensation of the ocean for the first time in her life. Caster could only shake her head with a small smile at that.

'_Ah, I should go do something like that when Shirou wakes up_.' She thought. It would be good to have a gentle memory of herself imprinted on him before the end of this war. He had, after all, taken himself far too seriously most of the time she had known him in life. It would be good to try to get him to relax a bit, and just enjoy life for what it was without having her drag him almost kicking and screaming towards such actions.

Her amusement, however, was pushed aside as Saber and Irisviel finally noticed that another Servant was announcing his presence nearby. From the serious looks on their faces, it was clear that they intended to meet the challenge head on. On one hand, Caster applauded the action. Such decisions were just what Caster had expected and hoped of the great King of Knights.

On the other hand, it would most likely be a trap as the enemy had been there for some time and prepared the ground. Well, if such turned out to be the case and the two were in too much danger then Caster would step in. Until then... Caster reached over and pulled over a bag of snacks and began brewing a cup of tea as she awaited the action.

She was not disappointed.

Upon the docks two legends fought with stunning displays of prowess, one with a blade hidden by the wind, one with two spears the colors of yellow and crimson. A beautiful warrior in steel and blue faced a handsome knight in black. With her magic she gazed upon the battle with rapt attention even as she stroked her Master's head that rested on her lap and sipped her tea daintily.

She watched as the two legends battled and felt something she had not felt in a long time.

Anticipation, not since her old friends had passed on into death's embrace had she felt the urge to test herself against them. A lifetime of becoming an unmatched legend, decades of work and effort to become the strongest, and the two in her vision were both challenges to her supremacy.

She could see why many a hero would desire to come to this war. Whether one wins or loses, such battles would be gifts unto themselves as legend faces legend to see who is greater.

With her discerning eye, she watched the battle unfold before her. She felt shock, awe, and appreciation for Lancer's tactic to wound Saber's arm with the yellow spear, refusing to let her use the full capacity of her abilities. In turn, she could not help but grin as she saw that Saber was still able to face such an opponent with peerless skills even when one of her hands had barely any strength in it.

No wonder 'He' had always claimed to have been lucky to learn under her, if only for a short time. Such skill, such ability, no other swordsman could match Saber's ability, not even Him. Still...she would not let Saber fall, she would never let her fall so long as she drew breath. She respected Saber too much to let her die because of such a simple mistake.

But even as Caster prepared to move out, another made his presence known with thunder and lighting announcing his name and identity. Iskander, into her mind flowed the knowledge of the King of Conqueror's tale.

A powerful opponent but not one she was sure she couldn't defeat with proper preparations. Though, since he was of the Rider class, his Noble Phantasm would probably be a problem. Still, if worst came to worst she had a trump card of her own to use.

But that was a possibility for later. She still lacked any prana sources and knew it would be best to hold off on any confrontation for the moment. She was not ready, and in truth she was not sure she even wanted to bother fighting at all. If anyone dared to face her, she would break them upon her knee, but otherwise, it might just be better to just stay out of the melee. Especially since Shirou's life would be in danger.

She was broken out of her thoughts as The King of Conqueror's appeared in the midst of the combat and announced his identity followed by quickly making a challenge, declaring any who were watching and would not appear to be cowards and enemies of the great king. For such a declaration, The King of Heroes himself appeared.

She should stay back, she should not rise to the bait, but her pride, her honor, and her very nature would not let Rider's challenge stand uncontested. Besides, she would be a poor representative of her people and her status if she did naught but stay back in the shadows. It should be safe enough to bring him, there would probably not be any more battles tonight as it would be the height of stupidity and madness to start up anything with so many Servants present.

Then there was the fact that she was not some lesser Servant, Caster was one of the greatest heroes her land had ever produced. Her name had resounded throughout the world and told again and again through the generations. She'd be damned before she lowered herself to being less than what she was unless it was an emergency of the highest order.

(Or, as she thought previously, anything that would result in too high of a risk for her Master.)

Some Casters might prefer to stand back and let the flow of battle go out of their hands, but not her apparently. No, she would answer the call and prove she was not afraid, prove that she would meet them on the battlefield and show them all that she too was a strong opponent worthy of this war.

Truly, _He_ had been right. How could she not wish to face great opponents such as these and not want to find out how she measured up? With that, she gathered her diminutive Master into her arms and began wrapping him up as she began to chant as she held her wand aloft.

Before her, a portal appeared that she stepped through and found herself before her enemies and possible allies. Even as she stepped forth, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was forgetting something. Damned if she knew what it was, but it felt like it was something important she was supposed to remember.

Well, she'd probably remember in time.

Hopefully.

xxxxxxxxx

_Omake:_

"Servant Saber, I ask of you, are you my Master?" A blond Servant asked the scraggly looking man before him. Instead of getting a response, the man kept his silence, his eyes roving up and down. Instead, it was the white haired woman standing beside him who asked:

"Are you King Arthur?"

"Who? No," The blond Servant replied. "My name is Guiche de Gramont, Leader of the Undine Knights, and known as the Golden Steel General of Tristain."

The looks on the couples faces was not encouraging to the legendary captain.

xxxx

"Servant Archer, I ask of you, are you my Master?" The large man asked the man in a red outfit. Beside him stood two priests of some kind, but the large man felt no connection to said priests.

"..." The man in red stared at what was definitely not the King of Heroes. "Who are you?" Before the newly summoned Servant could answer, a small and rather quiet voice spoke up.

"Tristain's Great Storm, Malicorne de Grandple, Second in Command of the Undine Knights."

Turning to the source of the noise, the giant of a man beheld a familiar sight. "Oh, Tabitha, what are you doing here?"

"Servant Assassin."

"Ah," Malicorne nodded. "That makes sense." Meanwhile, the three non-Servant individuals stood off to the side in complete confusion of the sudden change of events.

xxxxxx

"Saber, you know them?" Irisviel asked her Servant who stood off against two opposing Servant declaring themselves as both residing under the title of Lancer before all three Servants pointed at each other in surprise.

"Of course," Guiche replied, "How could I not know my subordinates, the Twin Demons of Tristain, Gimli and Reynard?"

"Captain, what a surprise!" Reynard yipped in excitement.

"Have you been well?" Gimili asked cheerfully. Off to the side, the two of them could feel their Master's annoyance that the two of them were figured out so quickly, but it wasn't like they could hide their identities from.

"Well enough." Their former captain replied.

"So tell me captain," A new voice suddenly spoke up. Turning to the source, the three of them beheld their final comrade. "Just how many women have fallen for your charm already you lucky bastard?" Malicorne asked.

"None! It's great, MonMon won't be giving me any grief." Guiche replied cheerfully.

" Give it time, Bastard," Malicorne retorted in good nature.

"So I guess we're enemies today?" Gimli asked. Beside him, Reynard grew a massive grin.

"It's been a while since we went all out on each other."

"Indeed." Guiche replied. With barely a flick of his wand sword, he was surrounded by dozens of steel Valkyries. In response, the winds around Malicorne swirled faster and faster while Gimli and Reynard brought forth spears of fire and water. Each of them held massive smiles of eagerness on their faces.

Any attempts to start the fight immediately ended when a familiar pink haired woman jumped out of a portal. "Whoa, wait, you're all here too?" Caster suddenly screeched out.

"Ah, what a surprise to see you Duchess." Guiche waved at her even as his stance became a bit more guarded at the sight of such a fearsome foe.

"This...is insane." Caster shook her head. "What's next, Tabitha as Rider?"

"Assassin actually." Malicorne replied. Somehow, he could feel his Master slap his head with his hand at the information, but the man was deluding himself if he thought the Duchess wouldn't figure it out soon enough.

"I am Rider." A tremendously powerful, yet quiet voice replied. Descending to the ground on the largest manticore ever heard of, Karin the Heavy Wind descended, with some small man hanging onto her back, but who cares about him.

"Mother." Caster whispered as her face went deadly pale at the sight before her.

"Daughter." Karin replied as she looked directly at her spawn. "It looks like we'll finally have that talk you've been avoiding."

"Oh Founder." All four Knights of Undine cussed as one, realizing immediately the full threat the newest opponent represented.

"Oh, Karin, how are you?" The final Servant appeared to the side. It was a bald man in a blue robe holding onto a crooked staff. The man looked so harmless, yet gave off a palpable aura of death.

"Colbert, you're looking well." Karin replied with the smallest raise of an eyebrow.

"Resisting the madness." The former professor, once known as the Flame Snake replied pleasantly.

"This...is insane." Caster whispered. "How can this get any worse?"

xxxxxxx

"Servant Avenger, upon your summoning I have come forth." The petite woman spoke quietly to the mage before her. Her hatred of all such creatures was quietly suppressed. She'd kill this one later.

The mage looked up and down at her before asking the obvious question, "You're an elf?" 

"I am Luctiana, Luctiana of the Desert, the only reason I am here is if the Duchess is here." Said elf replied. "Find her and I shall destroy her. Help me accomplish this and I shall serve you till the end of your days."

xxxx

"...Oh Root, I just jinxed myself, didn't I?"


End file.
